


Hey, Sweetheart

by castielsstarr



Category: Supernatural
Genre: I'm Sorry, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-28
Updated: 2015-10-28
Packaged: 2018-04-28 13:19:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 839
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5092259
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/castielsstarr/pseuds/castielsstarr
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Today was like any other day. He was going to get to see Cas.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hey, Sweetheart

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the Supernatural Writing Challenge: October  
> Prompt: Cemetery
> 
> Come hang out with me on Tumblr, I promise I don't bite:  
> SPN NSFW Multi-ship sideblog: [wingedwincest.tumblr.com](http://www.wingedwincest.tumblr.com)  
> Main blog: [castielsstarr.tumblr.com](http://www.castielsstarr.tumblr.com)

Today was like any other day. Dean managed to haul himself out of bed on the third try, sleep stuck in the corners of his eyes. He dragged his stiff and sore body, tired from years of fighting life, into the bathroom to shower and fix his sleep-mussed hair. The light in the bright bathroom caught the tiniest golden flecks in his green eyes as he leaned in close to the mirror.

And he smiled.

Cas always told him those flecks were his favorite—that they were just freckles in his eyes. It never failed to make Dean laugh, just the cute way he said it. Like no matter how dorky the words were that came out of his mouth, he believed it 100 percent. He couldn’t wait to hear it again. He was going to get to see Cas today.

And he smiled.

What they had was rough on Dean emotionally, but he managed. He loved Cas—God, so fucking much—and there was no one else for him. Not even Benny, who he had a crush on, once upon a time. It was just a problem because Dean missed him so much. Not just the simple kind where a thought would cross his mind and quickly leave. It was the deep longing that he felt in his bones, the one that kept him awake at night, wondering if Cas missed him too. He knew he would.

And he smiled.

He showered quickly and gelled his hair up a little. _Just the way Cas likes_ , he thought. Clothes, shoes, coat and he was out the door. He couldn’t help the feeling swelling in his chest. It made him pick up speed a little. It wouldn’t be long now and he would see him. His angel, his rock, all those other stupid analogies that Cas was so friggin’ fond of.

And he smiled.

There was a flower vendor on the corner across the street and Dean made the split-second decision to bring Cas’ favorite for him. He always gave Dean shit every time he bought flowers, saying they were a waste of money, but he always nuzzled his nose between petals, enjoying the fresh scent. He bought a small bouquet of them—lilies, five that were stark white and two that were different. An orange one, bleeding red on the edges like a sunset, for himself and a baby blue one for Cas. He lifted the flowers to his nose to smell them.

And he smiled.

With the two colored blossoms nestled in the center of white, Dean made his way to the end of the block and turned the corner. He opened the gate and entered, closing it lightly behind him. The ground was dry under his boots. It hadn’t rained yet this week. The grass was well-groomed, as it was every week when he came by. A woman passed by him, her young daughter holding her hand. She nodded at Dean once.

And he smiled.

The row that he turned down was empty and he was glad for it. It always felt a little strange talking to Cas when there were other people around. He preferred the quiet, like Cas was a secret he was selfishly trying to keep for himself. The wind whistled through the leaves of the trees surrounding him and the sun peeked through in places. Dean stopped and looked ahead of him. “Hey, Cas.”

And he smiled.

The stone was jagged cut, mostly grey and brown together. “I’ve missed you, babe.” Cas’ favorite quote from Hamlet was carved in precise lettering that still managed to seem soft, delicate, even carved into rock. He let the flowers rest at the base of the stone and as he stood, placed his hand to its surface. Warmed from the morning’s sun, the heat transferred quickly to his hand and he pulled away. The stone usually stayed cold, regardless of light. “Are you happy to see me?” The rustle of the trees was his answer.

And he smiled.

Dean took a seat on the grass behind the large stone, so wide at the base that it almost hid his body from view of the row. He fished his phone out of his pocket and turned it over and over in his hands. “Did you know that I’m still incapable of going a whole week without hearing your voice? It’s pretty pathetic.” He flipped the screen open, tapped voicemail, keyed his password, pressed one and held the phone to his ear. “You have… one… saved message. Voice message… from…” His voice rang clear, “Castiel.”

And he smiled.

“Hey, sweetheart. I just wanted to call and let you know that I’m on the road. I promise I’ll be home soon, two hours tops, alright? I love you and I hope—” Dean held the phone away from his ear a second before the loud crash and screech of bending metal. He curled his knees to his chest and hit replay. “Hey, sweetheart. I just wanted to call—”

And he cried.

[](http://imgur.com/epTYrso)

[](http://imgur.com/c4X7xNQ)

**Author's Note:**

> Both photos are mine. Location: Highgate Cemetery East, London.


End file.
